


I Nightmare About You

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Rape, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I told you. I’m here to make a bargain.” He sipped on his wine. “To be honest, it’s taking me all my willpower to keep myself from slipping into the other room and have my way with him. He’s a beautiful creature, really. But in the end, what I like seeing is… the pain in their eyes. I’ll give you a choice, Captain. Either I rape him, which suits me fine, or.. you do.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Nightmare About You

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> "This is not my prompt but I found it on avengerkink and thought of you and your stories ^^ Clint is in a relationship with Tony.On a mission, Clint and Cap get captured (by someone who knows Tony and Clint are together) and locked in. Out of Clint's hearing range the evil guy forces Cap to chose: either Cap forces himself on Clint or evil guy will do it himself (and he's known for his brutality). Steve isn't allowed to tell Clint about the deal or explain"

This is not my prompt but I found it on avengerkink and thought of you and your stories ^^ Clint is in a relationship with Tony. On a mission, Clint and Cap get captured (by someone who knows Tony and Clint are together) and locked in. Out of Clint's hearing range the evil guy forces Cap to choose: either Cap forces himself on Clint or evil guy will do it himself (and he's known for his brutality). Steve isn't allowed to tell Clint about the deal or explain.

 

\--

 

“Wait, let’s take a little break.” Tony held up his hand, and Steve sighed gratefully, nodding. Tony looked a little pale – they all did. The pictures Fury had sent them were gruesome. Men raped brutally in ways Steve didn’t think were possible. Out of the 9 victims, all 9 had died during the assault, and it was no wonder why. There were variations of torture devices, and all photos showed lacerations and burns in the most private areas.

 

Tony stood up. “I need some air.” He tapped Clint’s cheek. “Want something to drink?”

 

Clint shook his head, yawning. He’d just been back from a 4-day long mission and he’d been sleeping for most of the briefing, not that Steve said anything about it because he knew how exhausted Clint was. He folded his arms, buried his head and soon he was breathing evenly again. Tony chuckled affectionately and stretched. “Bruce? Cap? Thor? Natasha?”

 

“Coffee for me, please.” Bruce said, flipping through the reports and pointedly ignoring photos.

 

Natasha nodded. “Same here. No caffeine for Thor.” Thor frowned but relaxed when Natasha glared at him. “Orange juice for him. And Clint, too. He’ll appreciate it when he wakes up.”

 

Steve stood from his seat. “I’ll go with you. Fresh air would be nice.” He stretched before following Tony out. “You all right?”

 

“..Yeah.” Tony said, biting his lips. “Did you notice?”

 

“That they were all lean SHIELD agents with short blonde hair all around Clint’s height?” Steve answered grimly. He bit his lip. “Fury must have noticed, too. And the counter…” Tony made a noise in the back of his throat and Steve stopped. The counter was at 9/10. “We won’t let him get hurt, Tony. Not just you. All of us.”

 

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, leaning on the wall. “Yeah.”

 

\--

 

“Smells like blood.” Clint grumbled. His bow was slung over his back because he couldn’t draw it in the cramped space, and he instead had a gun in one hand and a sleek blade in the other. Steve kept close behind him, feeling nauseous. Clint was right – the small underground passageway they were in smelled heavily of blood and rotting flesh. He was thankful he was in here with Clint, who spotted the traps before they had a chance to activate. “Here we are.” Clint finally said, tapping up. The sound was the same to Steve, but Clint must have been satisfied because he stepped back started to press a bunch of buttons on a panel he’d attached. The ceiling/floor crumbled silently as Clint sidestepped neatly away.

 

Steve climbed over first, made sure no one else was around, and moved to let Clint up. Clint’s feet were silent on the ground as he made his way over to the computer, fingers typing silently into the keyboard. He typed away for a while as Steve watched the door anxiously, ready to cover Clint if he had to. He’d been on edge about Clint ever since the photos Fury had passed along to them.

 

Clint suddenly cursed lowly and Steve was tackled from the waist before he could even react to the curse. He thrashed out and then immediately realized it was Clint as spikes shot from the (now dying) computer. “What happened?”

 

“It’s a trap.” Clint hissed, looking at where the silver blades hung quivering embedded in the wall. “We gotta get out of here, Cap.” He whispered, his eyes wide. He jumped up. “Iron Man, are you hearing this? Captain America and I’ve walked into a trap.”

 

[Copy.] Tony’s voice was tight. [Can you get out of there?]

 

“Yeah.” Clint hissed, following Steve back into the sewers. “On our way back, but this definitely means they know we’re- Cap?!” Clint lunged.

 

[Hawkeye!]

 

“I’m good, but Cap just crumbled.” Clint’s eyes scanned Steve for any abnormalities, and he sucked in a breath. “Tranquilizers.” He hissed. “Ones strong enough to knock-“ He stopped when he felt something sharp crash into his side. He looked down to see a dart and felt his vision swimming. “Iron Man.” He said, voice thick. “Send backup.”

 

[Clint!]

 

\--

 

Clint and Natasha had trained Steve enough for him to realize that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be when he woke up. He kept his body loose and his eyes closed like the super-assassins had taught him to, and started taking note of when he could. His hands weren’t tied – in fact, he wasn’t restrained at all. That puzzled him, but he forced his eyes to remain closed and his body relaxed. There were other people in the room, but he didn’t know how many. He was sitting upright on a couch of sorts, and he decided to open his eyes.

 

“Ah, there he is.” Steve narrowed his eyes and looked around. He was sitting at a table, completely unrestrained. There were three men with him. One was obviously the ‘boss’, sitting directly across from him with a snug smile while the other two stood in the traditional bodyguard style at his side. But Steve was pretty certain he could take both of them down. “As you see, Captain Rogers, you’re completely unrestrained. But please, no sudden moves. Or your little bird friend will be the one suffering.”

 

 _Clint_. The thought chilled his blood and he swallowed thickly. “Where is he?”

 

The man chuckled. “He’s asleep, as sound as a child. I don’t suppose he’ll be waking up for quite a while. We had to do quite a number to find tranquilizers that would work on you, and on normal humans, well, the effect lasts for quite some time. He’s nearby, I promise. Safe. For now.”

 

For now. The words made Steve’s heart skip a beat. “What is it that you want?”

 

The man nodded to one of the muscles, who started to pour Steve blood-red wine. Steve stared and left the glass alone. “It’s not tempered with, Captain Rogers.” The man chuckled, and shrugged when Steve kept his hands off of it. “I’m here to make a bargain, Captain Rogers. I’m sure you received my invitation.” When Steve frowned, the man slid a manila folder in his direction. Steve opened it carefully, and felt his blood drain when he saw the photos.

 

“You were the one – all the SHIELD agents…”

 

“Ah, yes. They were all quite beautiful men.” The man sipped his wine. “I had them for some time, but of course, I was building up to the real thing. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, the real thing happens to be sleeping helplessly very nearby.”

 

Steve swallowed thickly. “If you touch him, I’ll kill you.” His hands clenched into fists and he realized he was trembling.

 

“I won’t be touching him, Captain.” The man chuckled. “You will.” Steve felt his anger drain at the sudden revelation. He stared, confused. “I told you. I’m here to make a bargain.” He sipped on his wine. “To be honest, it’s taking me all my willpower to keep myself from slipping into the other room and have my way with him. He’s a beautiful creature, really. But in the end, what I like seeing is… the pain in their eyes. I’ll give you a choice, Captain. Either I rape him, which suits me fine, or.. you do.”

 

Steve’s eyes widened. “ _What_?”

 

“You’ve seen the work I’ve done on the others. I’ll fuck them until I’m bored. Play with them, of course. Teach them the real meaning of BDSM. When I get bored, I’ll then throw them to my men. Where they’ll be raped to death. I’m giving you a choice to fuck him instead. Of course, you can’t tell him why, and there are certain things I want to see happen.”

 

Steve closed his eyes. “You want me to rape my own teammate, and let you watch.” _Who is currently in a relationship with another teammate_.

 

“Yes.” The man chuckled. “Or, you can wipe your hands clean and let me do it. Fair choice, I think.” Fair. Steve kept his eyes shut. There was nothing remotely fair about the situation. And still the choice he had to make was abundantly clear.

 

\--

 

 

The rules were set.

 

Steve rubbed Clint’s cheek. It was almost like he wasn’t drugged, like he was just enjoying a peaceful sleep. The drug would wear off soon, and then Clint would of course do what he did – take in his surroundings without opening his eyes. He stepped off the bed and waited quietly.

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but Clint decided to open his eyes and scan his surroundings. His eyes landed on Steve, and Clint grinned. “Steve. Why the fuck are we both naked? You didn’t do anything to me, did you?”

 

Steve felt his heart shatter. He chose to stay silent, and in one swift move, he’d gripped Clint’s wrists and flipped him on his stomach. Clint yelped in surprise. He stiffed for a second but fought back immediately, but Steve subdued him easily. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he bent over Clint, nibbling his ear and neck. Clint thrashed under him. “Steve, what the fuck are you- Steve, get a grip! Did they drug you?”

 

Steve kept Clint firmly down as he licked down Clint’s neck. Clint shuddered and bucked upward, and Steve winced inside. Clint whimpered. “Steve, come on. L-let’s talk. What’s going on? Are you being forced to do this? What was the deal?”

 

 _If he figures out what’s happening, Captain, rest be assured, you’ll both be tranquilized again, and this time, he won’t be waking up to you. He’ll be waking up to about twenty of my men, all ready to assault him_.

 

Steve pressed his elbow into Clint’s spine, hard, and Clint cried out in pain. He started to tremble, and Steve felt desperate. He kept one hand at the back of Clint’s neck, keeping it firmly down, and took his cock in one hand. He stroked it to hardness and silently begged Clint and Tony for forgiveness as he positioned himself and pushed in dry.

 

Clint’s scream caught in his throat and he choked on it, gurgling for a second until he bucked against Steve, trying to thrash away. Steve pressed harder down on Clint’s neck, clenching his eyes shut as he pushed in fully. If he opened his eyes he’d see blood where Clint had torn around him, and he didn’t want to. It hurt, and he didn’t want to even think about how much more it hurt for Clint. Clint was whimpering, trying to move away, but Steve kept him firmly there as he bent down and bit Clint’s neck, digging his teeth into the skin.

 

 _I want you to tear his skin off his neck. Leave a scar for him to remember forever_.

 

The bitter taste of copper filled his mouth and he spat onto the sheets. Clint was taut, sobs choking his throat. Steve had never seen Clint cry before. Never. It was just something he’d never considered before, Clint _crying_. He was always so strong, cocky, and confident.

 

Steve felt his breaking every time Clint’s shoulders hitched in a wretched sob. He shuddered under Steve’s hands, still unforgiving at the top of his shoulders, and Steve blinked back his tears, shuddering in unwanted release. He pulled out gingerly and wished he could do something, anything, to make Clint’s pain less.

 

He couldn’t, and it tore him apart. He shut his eyes and raised the hand he wasn’t holding Clint down by high.

 

 _Spank his ass until he’s black and blue_.

 

The first blow caught Clint off guard and he bucked, his eyes wide. Steve saw Clint try to look at him, but he kept Clint’s head firmly down as he delivered another blow, and then another and another. Clint kept silent for the first few that turned the tender skin a bright red, but once he started to bruise, a sobbed cry tore itself out of Clint’s lips and Steve almost gave everything up.

 

Clint was crying anew as the red gradually turned into an unforgiving purple, mottled with black and blue under the constant abuse. Steve’s own hand was throbbing in pain and he felt tears scrolling down his own cheeks. I’m so sorry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. He lifted a trembling hand from the discolored skin, feeling nauseous at the way hand-shaped bruises were forming.

 

Clint was sobbing and shaking. “Steve, I don’t understand.” He whispered into the sheets below him, damp with tears and saliva. “Please, Steve. What’s…”

 

Steve cut him off with a sharp jab to the back of his spine. If he heard Clint’s voice, broken like it’d never been before, he would break himself. He positioned himself and slid inside again, Clint’s once-worn passage slick with blood and his own release from before. Clint whimpered when Steve settled in and tried to scramble away, but Steve overpowered him almost laughably.

 

_I want to see him filled to the brim with semen, Captain. I know you’re capable enough. And when he’s wrecked inside, shove your fist in._

Steve almost wished he could forget everything, but the orders were burned into his memory at the threat of Clint having to go through something worse. Clint passed out during one of his violent thrusting, and Steve was glad for the reprieve as he pulled out, sobbing. His hand shook as he lifted it from its place on Clint’s neck. A deep bruise had already formed at the base of his neck, between his shoulder blades, and Steve felt like vomiting. Clint’s face was red where it had been forced onto the sheets, stained with tears and tracks of saliva where he’d screamed and begged.

 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, thumbing the tears away with a shaky hand. “I’m so sorry, Clint.” _I’m so sorry, Tony_.

 

It wasn’t long before a man walked in with a bucket of ice water. “Please.” Steve begged. “We’ve been at it for hours. He needs a break. Please, have some mercy. I’m doing everything he wants!”

 

The man paused, and then shrugged. “All I got are orders, man.” Steve considered striking back. The man was armed, but Steve could definitely get the upper hand before he could even reach for it. But then what? Clint would most definitely be taken away.

 

“Please.” He begged again. “Just a little more time. Just give him a little break.”

 

The man shrugged again and brought the bucket to Clint’s head and dumped it. Clint came up coughing and spluttering, and the man looked almost apologetic before he slipped out. Clint was shaking on his hands, and he looked up, thick droplets of water clinging to his lashes and cubes of ice sliding down his muscled back. “Steve. I had a nightmare. Please tell me it was a dream.”

 

He wanted to scream. Instead, he pushed Clint down again and he tried to find a new position with his hands as he thrust in again, each of Clint’s shaking cries daggers to his chest. He fell back finally, lifting his hands and pulling out when the order was filled. _Filled to the brim_. Clint’s thighs shook as streams of semen trailed down them before he collapsed.

 

Three fingers slid in easily, Clint barely protesting. He was trembling all over and still crying silently, and Steve slid three out and slid four in. Clint’s breath hitched, but he didn’t move. Clint’s body was clenching tightly around his fingers, trembling and throbbing. Steve slid the fingers back out and tucked his thumb in his palm as tightly as he could before pushing inside.

 

Clint tore around him again, more blood tinging the white that was trickling down his thighs. A cry ripped itself out of Clint’s lips as Steve pressed the widest part of his hands in, and his hand was sucked in by the rest quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut when Clint started to cry audibly again, sobbing brokenly into the sheets below him. His body tightened with every sob and Steve swallowed thickly.

 

_Fist him to orgasm._

 

He straightened himself and started to move his hand slowly, pressing around for Clint’s prostate. When he did find it, Clint bit his lips so hard he bit through it. Steve wanted to tell him no, stop, Clint, don’t hurt yourself, but he had absolutely no right. None.

 

He didn’t know much about prostate stimulation, but he knew it was the quickest way for Clint to finish, no matter how painful. Clint’s gasps turned reluctantly aroused as Steve massaged the gland, and Clint’s fingers gripped into tight fists in the sheets, entire body fighting off orgasm. Steve hated himself for making Clint finish. That was the part of the mental breakdown, he knew. One part was the pain and the intimate humiliation, and the other part was forcing unwanted pleasure onto the victim.

 

Clint came with a wretched cry, clenching tightly around Steve’s wrist as he emptied himself onto the sheets. Steve tore his eyes off of Clint’s broken body wrecked with sobs and pulled his hand out as gently as he could. His hands were stained with white and red, sticky and soiled.

 

Clint looked up at him, his eyes normally so lively blue so dark they were almost black. He was shaking, body coated in semen and blood and sweat. The blood from the bite on his neck was half-dried, crusting against tanned skin. Steve wondered numbly if Tony would be able to fix the scars. They stared at each other, Steve feeling as empty as the eyes that stared blankly at him.

 

\--

 

“I need to know wh- What are you doing?”

 

Steve bowed his head. Tony Stark was the last person he wanted to see. He didn’t know rather to ignore him or not, and realized that he owed Tony everything at this point. “Packing.”

 

“ _Why_?”

 

Steve looked down at the bag in his hand. “I – Obviously you wouldn’t want me around anymore. I’ve arranged a temporary place at SHIELD. I’m going to look for an apartment, somewhere-”

 

Tony snatched his bag away from him, looking furious. “You aren’t going anywhere. Listen, Steve. ” Tony looked like he wanted to give Steve a black eye. Or two. “You belong here. Yeah, I’m pissed off at you right now. ActuSally, pissed off doesn’t begin to cover it. But obviously you didn’t have a choice. I’m going to bet both my arms that he threatened if you didn’t do it, he would. Clint would see it too. If he wasn’t….” Tony trailed off.

 

If he wasn’t so terrified, Steve finished. Clint woke up screaming every night, flailing and crying until Tony managed to soothe him back into an uneasy sleep. He spent most of his day passed out from exhaustion. He could barely eat anything, and whatever he swallowed came back up.

 

“So.” Tony said, eyes hard. “Tell me. Why?”

 

“You know why.” Steve said, desperately. “I didn’t have a choice. It was either… Either me doing it or countless men.”

 

Tony nodded and there was silence stretched out over that. “You just said it.” Tony said finally. “You didn’t have a choice.” Steve looked up from his bag. “It was either you or men who would have fucked him until he died, Steve. By the time we managed to get there, Clint could have been lost. Maybe he wouldn’t have died, but he would’ve been broken. You saved his life.”

 

“I ruined it.”

 

“You _saved_ it.” Tony snapped, and then sighed, rubbing his face. “Listen, I… I’m going to be honest, Steve. I don’t know if I want to punch you in the face or give you a hug. Maybe I want to do both. When I saw you in that room, with Clint, I saw red.” Steve knew. Tony had dived for him, and Steve had let him. It had been Thor who’d pried Tony and his suit off of Steve. “Which I’m not going to apologize for. You hurt him. Badly. And you deserved it, in my mind. Still do, in my mind. Not that Bruce or Thor or even Natasha agrees, but he’s _my_ boyfriend.” The words were harsh, and then Tony sighed again. “Damn it. I didn’t come here to yell at you.” Steve let the silence stretch over them again until Tony said, “Come see him.”

 

“Tony, what-“

 

“He’s sleeping right now. If you could call passing out after crying for hours sleeping. Come see him. I want you to. I think you should. He won’t wake up. If I thought there was any chance of him waking up, I’d be with him, not here. And I wouldn’t take you to him.” Tony narrowed his eyes and Steve winced inwardly. “But I think you should see him.”

 

Steve didn’t understand the logic, but a part of him had been crying to see Clint. He’d avoided everyone in the tower, especially Tony, since the _incident_. He hadn’t had to work hard to avoid Clint because Clint was bedridden.

 

He followed Tony, dread filling him with every step. He hadn’t even realized they were where they were supposed to be until Tony nudged him inside a room and he was standing beside a bed. “Come on,” Tony urged.

 

Steve swallowed thickly and looked up, and then immediately regretted it. Clint was curled up on his side, shaking even in his sleep. Steve could see the top of the dark handprint of a bruise at the base of his neck and felt his insides lurch, knowing his hand would fit perfectly over the shape. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “Tony, I’m so sorry.”

 

Tony said nothing and instead took a warmed towel from a rack to pat Clint’s cold sweat down. Clint was gasping, trembling in the grips of a nightmare. This is worse than Loki, Steve thought. I’ve done something to him that’s worse than mind control.

 

Clint stirred for a moment as if he was going to wake up and turned on his other side, whimpering as he fell back into troubled sleep. It was only then that Steve noticed the IV line attached to his arm. “Fluids.” Tony explained. “Since he’s crying and sweating so much. He’s getting dehydrated really quickly. Bruce figured out a way to keep it steady even when he’s tossing and turning.”

 

Steve nodded, shuddering. “I need – I need some fresh air.”

 

“Steve.” Tony looked up. “It’s not your fault.”

 

Steve managed to nod before he bolted for the bathroom. He wretched everything he had out, and felt horrible because he’d eaten something when Clint wasn’t able to swallow even a mouthful. The thought made him vomit again, again and again until he felt a hand on his back, awkward but soothing nonetheless. When he looked up, Tony took his hand back, emotions fleeting across his eyes. “I’m more used to holding Clint when he’s throwing up in the toilet, but I think you’re too big for me to hold.” He grinned crookedly and it came out more like a grimace, but Steve appreciated the attempt. “Not that he can make it to the bathroom anymore. But you know. Sometimes if he woke up after a nightmare about Loki.”

 

Steve nodded as he rinsed his mouth out, shaking a little. “He’s so strong.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And I – I…”

 

Tony held his hand up. “Stop. I don’t want to hear the rest of that sentence. Clint’s still strong. He’ll recover. It’ll take him longer than usual, but he’ll recover. He’ll be back to shooting arrows and working out and being so ridiculously deadly it makes machine guns look cute. He’ll-“ Tony suddenly stopped and he stood up straighter.

 

Steve blinked for a second before he realized there was a shaking voice calling Tony’s name. Tony was running out the door of the bathroom before Steve even realized it was Clint. He stepped out cautiously, staying out of sight. “Hey.” Tony soothed, and Clint coughed as he reached for Tony. His voice was gentle as he climbed back into bed, a soft murmur of words too quiet for Steve to hear.

 

Clint was crying, incoherent words rambling in breathless whispers, and Steve sank down and leaned on the wall that kept him out of view. He heard Clint cough and dry-heave, cough again and whimper in pain. There was the small shatter of ice against each other as Tony tried to feed Clint ice cubes and failed when Clint coughed them back out. “Sorry.” Clint whispered, coughing until he was gagging again.

 

Tony took another warmed towel from the rack and started to pat Clint’s face down. “Shh, it’s okay. Can you go back to sleep?” It seemed like a forever mix of Clint’s half-panted whimpers and Tony’s low words until Steve heard sheets rustle. Tony’s feet made barely a noise on the floor as he approached and sank down next to Steve. “Sorry you had to hear that.”

 

Steve closed his eyes. “Is he always like this?”

 

Tony sighed, leaning against the wall. “Won’t lie to you, Steve. It’s worse. Usually he has trouble falling back asleep at all. Been getting better and better, though.” Tony rubbed his face. “Come back tomorrow morning.”

  
“What if he’s awake?”

 

Tony shrugged, standing up and holding a hand out for Steve. “JARVIS won’t let you in.” Steve hesitated at the hand, and then took it. “I’m going back to him. If he wakes up again and I’m not next to him… Anyway, yeah. See yourself out.”

 

Steve nodded slowly, watching Tony slip back under the covers. Tony smiled crookedly at him again – it looked less like a cringe that time – and he slid an arm under Clint’s head before falling back onto the pillows. Steve dragged himself back onto his floor. “ _You should know, Captain, that Agent Romanoff is in your room_.”

 

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

 

“ _No problem, sir._ ”

 

Steve got off at his floor and nodded at Natasha to acknowledge her before he went into the bathroom to wash his face. She was waiting for him on his bed, and he didn’t know who else could look so threatening in pink flannel. “Pink suits you,” he tried, and she smirked at him.

 

“How’d it go?” She asked when Steve opened his fridge to pour himself a glass of milk. “Did you talk to Clint?”

 

Steve flinched. “No. Of course not. He’d have panicked if he saw me.” Natasha made a face at that, but said nothing else until Steve had downed his milk glass. “I’d have thought you’d be the first one after my throat after what I did to Clint.”

 

Natasha raised a slender eyebrow at him. “I would be, if you hurt him. And before you start guilt tripping, you didn’t. You saved his life.”

 

Steve sighed. “That’s what Tony said, too. But…”

 

“But _what_? You don’t trust Tony to know anything that’s _Clint_?”

 

Steve rubbed his temples. “You guys appeared pretty quickly. If I could have just held them off, bought some time…”

 

Natasha shrugged. “Hey. I would’ve done the same thing you did. So would have anyone else, given the choice. Listen, it’s pretty ridiculous to say someone can die of rape, especially in the short window of time he had before we found you. But the SHIELD agents we found didn’t die of _rape_. I mean, one did, but he’d been missing for months before we found him. The rest of them died of an overdose of drugs. They were all found with dangerous drug cocktails in their body. It would’ve taken less than a minute to inject it into him before they even got started. He’d be dying right now. Or dead.”

 

The thought sent a chill down Steve’s spine. “It doesn’t change the fact that I hurt him.” He whispered. “That’s unforgiveable. I mean – _look_ at him. I… He’s worse than after Loki.”

 

Natasha hummed in the back of her throat, regarding him steadily. “That’s true. Because he’s not one to easily give his trust away, but someone he trusted with his life hurt him. But that’s only because he hasn’t really understood yet that you had no other choice. Give him some time to recover physically so that he’s not hallucinating from high fever anymore, and once he can think straight, he’ll get it. He’s always been a fast healer, Steve.”

 

Steve protested weakly, “It’s been a week. I think that’s enough to show the damage I had on him.”

 

Natasha stood as gracefully as a cat. “It’s _only_ been a week,” she corrected. “And Tony and Bruce tell me he’s healing fast. Sleeping better than before. More often than not he can drink water instead of sucking on ice chips without choking on it, and he’s starting to get more and more coherent.” Her feet made absolutely no noise as she seemed to glide across the floor. “He’ll be fine, Steve. Give him time. The person who really needs to heal isn’t Clint. It’s you.”

 

\--

 

Steve was admitted into the room, and was quietly announced by JARVIS. “Hey.” Tony mumbled, apparently still sleep-drunk. “Clint slept the entire night for the first time since we got you guys back.” He eased his arm out from under Clint’s head, winced as he flexed it a bit, and stretched. “Listen, I need a shower. I’ll be quick – just watch him, yeah? If he starts to stir around like he’s gonna wake up, just pat him down with one of the towels.”

 

“Wha- You’re leaving me alone with Clint?” Steve said, horrified.

 

Tony raised an eyebrow as he walked past him. “I mean, why not?” He grinned. “It’ll be good for you, too. I’ll be quick.”

 

Steve was left staring off as Tony slid into the bathroom. He heard the water running and he sighed, moving cautiously toward the bed before sitting at its edge. Clint’s brow wasn’t furrowed like it had been just the night before – he seemed to be truly peacefully asleep. He took a towel from the rack and wiped away at Clint’s face, healthier than Steve had last seen but still pale.

 

After a while, his fingers trailed down to the bruise, still so clear on Clint’s neck. “Yeah, you did a real number on it.” Steve jumped about three feet into the air. Tony was towel-drying his hair behind him. “It’ll fade though.” Tony rummaged in the drawer next to the bed and tossed Steve a container. “For his bruise.” Steve took it and gingerly started to spread the salve over the discolored skin. “I’m gonna go into the kitchen, get something for us.” When Steve tried to protest, Tony waved it away. “Listen, you were fine before, right?”

“Now it’s just obvious you’re trying to leave me alone with him.”

 

Tony winked. “Only for short periods at a time.” He was slipping into the elevator before Steve could do anything, and Steve sighed, wiping his hands on the towel he’d been holding before tossing into the metal hands that JARVIS offered him. He coaxed Clint into an easier position, moving the IV line out of the way before he pulled the sheets up to Clint’s neck.

 

He didn’t realize Clint was awake until their eyes met. “Steve.” Clint whispered, eyes wide. Steve froze in place as Clint scrambled away, kicking up sheets in a flail of limbs. “Tony – where’s Tony –“

 

Tony was bursting into the room in seconds (no doubt JARVIS had alerted him) and he shoved a tray of bagels and coffee at Steve before he enfolded Clint in his arms. “Hey. Hey, it’s all good.”

 

“Steve – he’s gonna hurt me-“

 

The words broke Steve’s heart, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place by horror, and he heard Tony wince lightly before he said, “Steve’s not going to hurt you. You trust Steve, right? Would he hurt you?”

 

“He did-“

 

“Come on, Clint. You _know_ this. Would Steve ever hurt you?” Tony’s voice was gentle as he rocked Clint, rubbing his shoulders.

 

There was silence filled by trembling sobs and gasps for a while until there was a small admission. “No.” Clint whispered. “No, he’d never.”

 

And it was like catharsis, like all the weight in Steve’s stomach just disappeared. He collapsed because his limbs had freed up from their lock, and Clint let out a sigh like it was catharsis for him, too, and Tony was chuckling. “Yeah, he’d never. And I’d never let someone who’d hurt you near you, yeah?” Tony shifted, glanced at Steve, and nodded once before returning his attention back onto Clint. Steve leaned against the bed, closing his eyes, feeling all too tired all of a sudden.

 

\--

 

“You fell asleep,” was the explanation Bruce gave him when Steve woke up and saw the ceiling. Bruce looked at him over his glasses, smiling gently in that Bruce-way. “You’ll be happy to know that Clint’s much better.”

 

Steve threw his arm over his eyes. “That’s… that’s a relief.”

 

Bruce chuckled softly. “Yeah. He’ll be fine, Steve. He’s sturdier than you give him credit for.”

 

Steve nodded once. He fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before he rose. He made his way back up to Clint’s and Tony’s floor, Bruce trailing quietly behind him, and JARVIS let him in. Tony was toweling Clint’s back, and the sight made Steve stop because it meant Clint was awake. “It’s okay. He won’t panic.” Bruce coaxed. Steve followed uncertainly and stood still as Bruce checked Clint over, scolding his lack of appetite.

 

Clint looked listless, like he was stretched too thin. He was barely sitting up without Tony’s help, eyes half-open as if it cost too much energy to keep them open all the way. Tony waved him over and Steve sat slowly on the edge of the bed. Clint glanced up at him and attempted a smile. “Hey, Cap.” His voice was raspy. “I nightmare about you.”

 

“Nightmare isn’t a verb, dumbass.” Tony teased. He soaked the towel in water again, squeezed it out and continued toweling Clint clean. Steve noticed that IV line was still in Clint’s vein, but the fact that Clint hadn’t reeled back and started panicking at the sight of him – and joked about his nightmares – was definitely a sign he was getting better.

 

“How can I help?” Steve asked quietly.

 

Clint glanced at him again. “Just stay.”

 

Right. Steve could do that. He watched Bruce take Clint’s pulse, check his blood sugar levels, his blood pressure, check his pupil reflexes, and everything else as Tony tugged Clint into clean clothes and even brushed his teeth. Clint was fast asleep by the end of it again, breathing evenly. “Is.. he really okay?”

 

Tony grinned at him. “Not completely yet, but he’ll get there.” He ran a hand through Clint’s hair, ruffling it lightly. “He still has the nightmares, but they’re not bad enough to wake him up or make him toss and turn. He kind of whimpers for a little bit before getting okay again. He’s not going to get better all of a sudden, Steve. But he _is_ healing fast. What you need to do is tell all your guilt to fuck off, because you don’t need any of it.”

 

Steve sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to ghost his fingers over the bruise that was yellowing at its edges. “I’ll have the guilt, Tony. No matter what, I hurt him.” Before Bruce or Tony could say anything, he smiled. “But it’s okay. That’s a part of us. Part of him, part of me, part of you, a part of the entire team.” He looked up and saw Tony grinning at him and Bruce rolling his eyes in exasperation. “What are we if not a dysfunctional family, right?”


End file.
